


A Memory of Warmth

by Nary



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Brotherhood, Flashback, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Memories, Mutual Masturbation, Pre-Canon, Sexual Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-08
Updated: 2011-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:30:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The men here were supposed to be his brothers, but Jon couldn't bring himself to call them that yet. He still missed his true brothers too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Memory of Warmth

_Bright sun at the Wall meant chest-aching cold, instead of the halfway-bearable cold of the overcast days. The men here were supposed to be his brothers, but Jon couldn't bring himself to call them that yet. He still missed his true brothers too much. He pulled his cloak tighter, shaded his eyes against the glare, and conjured up a memory of warmth to carry him through the long, cold watch._

At Winterfell, the hot springs kept winter at bay. Their favourite pool was in the eastern courtyard - it was deep enough to float in, or duck your brother's head under the water and hold him down. Robb, soaking there, hadn't noticed him as he crept across the cobblestones. He launched himself lightning-fast, landing across Robb's shoulders, bearing him down beneath the steaming water. But Robb twisted as they sank and in seconds he'd struggled free. They both shot to the surface, sputtering.

"I got you, Stark," Jon said when he'd caught his breath.

"Never." Robb hung onto the side of the pool as he coughed. "It doesn't count, you couldn't hold me down." It was always the same argument. "Anyway, sneaking isn't fair."

"Sneaking's part of the game!" Jon protested. "You sneak up on me all the time, even though you're rotten at it. Why shouldn't I? Were you…" He jerked his hand lewdly through the air.

Robb looked away. The ruddy colour in his cheeks wasn't entirely from the heat.

"You were?"

"So? You do it too, Snow."

"Sometimes." Jon was suddenly conscious of how often their legs brushed together in the small pool.

"It's better when a girl does it for you," Robb boasted.

"You never."

"With Marna, the scullery-maid."

"Liar. She wouldn't."

"But she did. She was beside me, this close," he said, moving alongside and slightly behind Jon, "and she put her hand on me. Like this." His hand curved around Jon's waist, beneath the water's calm surface, and touched him, making him snap to attention. "And she asked if I wanted more."

"What did you say?"

"What do you think?"

Jon could hardly think for the pounding of blood, rushing downwards to stiffen him. "Yes."

"Right. She brought me off, right there in the scullery. It was the best feeling ever." He paused. "You're, uh…"

"Sorry," Jon said, embarrassed.

"Anyhow, she won't do it again, she's afraid of getting caught." Robb hadn't moved away.

"Nobody would catch us here," Jon blurted before he could regret it. Robb was hard against his hip, hot as the water.

"You want to?" Robb's voice was husky but wary.

Jon turned, taking Robb in his hand. "Why not?"

It was short work with each of them stroking the other, Jon leaning hard on his brother's shoulder, shuddering through his climax, Robb tipping his head back in a wordless cry, digging his fingers into Jon's back, their ragged breaths mingling with the steam.

 _Remembering, Jon turned his face up to the sun's meagre warmth, chest aching with every breath._


End file.
